


hate the space you left behind after you left me

by Votique_M



Category: Record of Ragnarok (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother Complex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, I did this on a whim and under an hour, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, Is it incest if it's the reincarnated version of your brother?, M/M, My First Fanfic, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnated!Adamas, Slavery, What Was I Thinking?, Yandere, Yandere!Poseidon, honestly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Votique_M/pseuds/Votique_M
Summary: Blond hair, pale enough to pass off as white, like the foams from the waves. Eyes so startlingly blue that they could be mistaken for pieces of the ocean stolen and hidden in a pair of eyes. Skin darken from time spent under the sun, but none could miss the smooth, soft skin.It was him. It was his brother.It was Adamas in all his annoying glory.Or, Adamas dies, and is reincarnated. Poseidon refuses to admit his had a has a problem, Zeus is having too much fun with tormenting his older brothers and Hades just wishes broncons would stop existing.
Relationships: Adamas & Original Male Character, Adamas & Poseidon, Adamas/Poseidon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	1. Brother, lost and found

Poseidon could say with certainty that he felt nothing towards his eldest brother. If he was feeling generous, he might be say that he felt contempt towards the god of conquests. Adamas was weak. Granted none were as strong as Poseidon himself, much to his distaste, but to be weaker than all his younger brothers, Adamas was a disgrace as a god. He was weaker than Zeus, of all gods.

It was a given that all weak things should be crushed.

The blond god felt nothing as he watched his older brother bleed from the stab wound. The ichor trickled down from his trident, staining the divine weapon with the blood of his brother. Poseidon felt like sighing; honestly, playing around like this, after making such a distasteful joke was only something someone like Adams would do. An attention seeker like him wanted, no, _needed_ others to look at him constantly. The god of seas knew that being a god of conquests was Adamas’ own way of getting others to look at him. Which was precisely why Poseidon knew that the moment he gave into his brother’s whims, he would be endlessly pestered by the god.

(There were days that Poseidon knew that Adamas was better suited for the role of the youngest brother.

Adamas certainly was enough of a brat, even worse than Zeus.)

When it was clear that Adamas was determined to play dead for a longer than Poseidon’s patience, the blond god let out a quiet sigh before turning on his heel to leave. If his older brother was going to act like a petulant child, then Poseidon was going to leave him to his sulking. Poseidon wasn’t the most patient of the brothers’, and he wasn’t planning on entertaining any stubborn behavior from _Adamas_ , of all people.

(If he lingered by the door for a split second, it was because he wanted to. He was not waiting for the desperate sound from his eldest brother, snapping out of his play-pretend to get Poseidon’s attention. No, the lack of noise from where Adamas lay had nothing to do with it.

Anyone who dared say otherwise could face him and his trident.)

* * *

Poseidon may deny it all he liked, but Zeus knew the look of impatience on his older brother’s face. It was the same look he wore whenever Adamas went on his lengthy conquest campaigns or left the other blond without attention for longer than three days. Deny it all he liked, Poseidon was just as much an attention seeker as their eldest brother, and absolutely hated going without attention for only so long. Unlike their little family, not many had survived his presence for long.

Zeus nearly laughed when his patience had finally snapped and Poseidon had all but demanded Hades tell him where their _‘stupid, annoying eldest brother was up to now_ ’. The look on his face when Hades admitted that their dear, dear older brother had kicked the bucket, that he had been dead the moment Poseidon’s trident had pierced his chest. He savoured the expression; it wasn’t often he had the delight of seeing his usually oh-so unflappable, holier-than-thou older brother looking absolutely stunned.

(He wondered what surprised him more – that gods like them could die or that _Adamas_ could die. The idiot seemed content, if not elated, to throw himself into danger head first for so long that even he had almost forgotten that gods could die.)

The hilarity only increased when Poseidon, angry, temper tantrum throwing Poseidon, had all but demanded that their brother was to be forgotten, struck from history and their heavenly records. Zeus didn’t care, he wasn’t particularly close to Adamas, and the eldest brother _had_ attempted to start a coup against him, but he humoured Poseidon’s demand, if only it meant that the blond god would finally stop throwing temper tantrums every time anyone as so much as utter their late brother’s name in Poseidon’s vicinity.

(Honestly, whoever said that _Zeus_ was the brat of the family clearly had not met Poseidon.)

* * *

_He was dead._

_Dead._

_Why… why was he surprised? He said it himself did he not? Weak things were meant to be crushed._

_Yes. He was Weak. It was destiny and justice to have crushed the weak thing._

_He._

_He was meant to die._

_Die._

_Dead._

_He was dead._

* * *

Eons flew by like seconds. Time meant nothing to the gods, nothing more than a water flowing past their unchanging forms. It had been a while since Poseidon had felt anything, just the constant and general dull thrum of disgust at humans and gods alike. Humans, he found, were disgusting little worms. Descendants of Adam and Eve, they had none of their predecessors’ strength and all their weakness and hideousness. Hideous freakish worms that crawled on the earth, acting as though they were untouchable.

He didn’t understand why the other gods had allowed them to propagate so much, the stupid tottering fools. Much to his disgust, he had heard tales of how some gods were even _fond_ of the overgrown monkeys.

(Poseidon does not think of a certain blond and his fondness of humans, if only for their penchant for violence and exploration. If he wanted to, Poseidon could almost hear the constant stream of babbling of an interesting group of humans conquering this and that land, _all with his help of course. Why do you think Poseidon? Aren’t you amazed by your older brother? C’mon, you have to think that was cool right?_

Poseidon crushes that train of thought. No, gods did not need not thoughts like that, had no need for sentimentality.)

There were times that they had shown their worth. Poseidon and other gods were feared and worshiped by the overgrown monkeys, bringing them nothing but their finest. The blond god cared not for their offerings and sacrifices – after all nothing could compare to what he already had.

Still, whenever things in Olympus had gotten too repetitive and dry, Poseidon found himself in one of his many temples, trying to find entertainment in the on-goings of humans. With dark blue eyes, he surveyed the maggots caring for his temple and found himself feeling even more bored. He couldn’t understand why Zeus had frequently came down for a quick fuck – none of these maggots were remotely attractive enough to even gaze upon his faces.

Letting out an irritated sigh, he was about to leave when his eyes caught someone painfully familiar.

Blond hair, pale enough to pass off as white, like the foams from the waves. Eyes so startlingly blue that they could be mistaken for pieces of the ocean stolen and hidden in a pair of eyes. Skin darken from time spent under the sun, but none could miss the smooth, soft skin.

(For a split second, Poseidon was taken back to his childhood. Back when the annoyance known as his brother was much easier to deal with. Back before the older god had gotten it into his head that he wanted to leave and go around on his expeditions like an idiot.

He remembered seeing his brother’s back and felt bile build up in the back of his throat.

No, those memories were meant to be forgotten, to be buried so deep in his subconscious that he could not longer recall them with startling clarity.)

* * *

_(Here’s the thing with being a god._

_Everything was perfect. The perfect physique, perfect voice, perfect memory._

_No matter how much one tried to forget, their blessings of perfection always ensured that they remained whole and perfect._

_The gift of perfection was a blessing, until it became a curse.)_

* * *

Poseidon kept an eye out for the boy. A worshiper of his, that much was clear when the boy had placed his offerings on the altar and prayed. A son of a fisherman and a seamstress. Poseidon wasn’t surprised. Adamas seemed like the type to choose such lowly birth, if only to surpass his circumstances. It was like him to do that, the attention seeker.

No, that did not irritate Poseidon (much) – no, it was the sight of the little boy by his side. The sight of the familiar face of Adamas crinkling into a smile, aimed towards the human, not even bothering to look at him, Poseidon, his actual brother, was enough to irritate him.

Still, he didn’t leave his place as he watched his brother hold the boy, wrapping his hands around the boy’s to properly place their sacrifice to him. The feeling of irritation burned in his chest as the two shared a laugh, holding each other’s hands as they left his temple. The burning sensation didn’t leave his chest, even as he returned to Olympus. It grew wilder and hotter as the memory of Adamas offering a smile to the rotten maggot without a care in the world. Where the fuck had the older god been – disappearing for eons, only to return as looking like a child among humans.

Poseidon needed answers.

* * *

_“Is it possible for gods to be reborn?”_

_“I- sir Poseidon?”_

_“Answer me, Hermes.”_

_“It’s, well, it’s not usual, but it isn’t unheard of.”_

_“Yes, or no.”_

_“…” A sigh. “Yes, it is entirely possible.” A pause. “May I ask why?”_

_Poseidon didn’t answer him, turning and leaving. Hermes heaved a sigh._

_“What troublesome masters I have.”_

* * *

It wasn’t a supposed to happen again. No, it was supposed to have stopped after the first time he caught sight of the boy.

And yet, Poseidon found himself frequenting the temple, catching sight of the two boys. His newly reincarnated brother, in all his glory, was the same as ever. Well, almost. The lack of blood thirst had been a surprise, so was the charisma. Though, the blond god shouldn’t have been surprised. His brother could be surprisingly, _charming_ whenever he had stopped being such an attention seeker.

(Poseidon refused to admit that the lack of affection towards him was jarring. No, it was a reprieve. How long had he spent trying to avoid the affection from his older brother? The time since he had first killed his brother was the most amount of peace he had.)

Still, Poseidon found himself feeling increasingly irritated as the reincarnated version of his brother showered the younger human in affection. Didn’t he see it was in vain? Clearly, the maggot didn’t want the attention. Clearly, no matter the body or the time, Adamas didn’t know when to keep his affection to himself.

(Poseidon could almost hear the mocking laugh from Zeus and the tired sigh from Hades. He made a note to stab the two of them later.)

Still, every time their father had left to the sea, without fail, his brother and the two other humans would show up at the temple, praying for blessings of safety for the human sailor. It didn’t matter to Poseidon – what was a life of a mere human to a god? Still, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the visits to the temple.

(If fishes were scarce for a certain fisher, waves choppy, winds dead, leading for more frequent trip to the sea, well, it was simply terrible luck now wasn’t it?)

* * *

The lack of awareness from his brother was starting to get to him. He had been watching the boy for little over a year now and still, his brother was unaware of his gaze. Were humans truly this blind? Disgusting, unacceptable. The moment Adamas had regained his godhood, Poseidon was going to run him through with his trident a second time.

Truly, he was a disgrace to all the gods.

And the amount of _affection_ he was showering a human with. Poseidon wanted to roll his eyes. The blond had known no other god besides Zeus that was willing to throw that much affection towards a singular human for so long if not to fuck them. Was that his goal, to fuck his new brother? Poseidon didn’t bother to hide his grimace.

Oh, he was well aware of his brother’s obsession with him. The other god didn’t bother to hide it, always running around, begging for even a scrap of attention. It was almost humorous how easily he could wound his brother up with a single syllable. Adamas acted more like a devoted worshiper than a god.

_(Maybe he should’ve found it less appealing than he did, but who was to judge him.)_

Still, seeing how the affection from his brother be gifted to a lowly human was enough to piss him off. The younger human clearly wasn’t worthy of such attentions. The boy still had baby fat clinging to his body, nose crooked in a way that only having it broken made sense, and a limp to boot. Poseidon could understand Adamas’ fascination with him (they were gods and gods were perfect in every manner.), but the human? That ugly thing?

It was almost insulting.

It was so incredibly insulting that it warranted a punishment.

* * *

Hades was torn between sighing and crying in frustration. His brothers were so incredibly frustrating to deal with. He wanted nothing more than to drink his headaches away.

The mutual obsession between Adamas and Poseidon, since Poseidon was born and past Adamas’ death, was enough to add white in his hair. The two were so stupid and foolish, that it honestly made him wonder whether he should just off himself to be done with it all.

But no, he had to be the responsible one. Because it sure as hell wasn’t either of his brothers, with their intricate and complicated dance around each other.

Heaven forbid the day when Zeus had to be the level-headed one between them all, Hades shuddered at the thought. No, that would truly be the day the sky would fall upon the earth and wiped them all out.

A pair of warm arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders. Hades leaned back into his wife’s embraces, savouring her warmth. See, he and his wife had a good, simple relationship. None of that stupid dancing around. “Something wrong, love?” Her gentle voice soothed his frayed nerves. Truly, he did love his wife.

“Just family.” He took a swing of ambrosia. “Just… _family_.”


	2. Brothers, remembered and forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me, posting a fic in a fandom with like almost minimal fanfics: Haha I doubt anyone would read this lol  
> The fic: Get read by other people  
> Me: shockedpikachu.jpeg
> 
> No but seriously, thanks y'all. Didn't really think this fic would get any attention, especially since I did this so rushedly(??? lol someone help me). English ain't my mother tongue so sorry for the mistakes in the fic. Anywho the next chap'll probs be late-ish? Later than this one at least cuz my exams are next week, so wish me luck.

Cadmus remembers his past life.

He remembers the feeling of ichor that ran through is veins, of the wind caressing his hair, the rush of throwing himself into battles. He remembers the weight of his scythe – his scythe which he had forged in his first childhood – and how it felt to use his divine weapon.

He remembers conquest and blood.

He remembers brothers and betrayal.

It was bittersweet, Cadmus thought, that the one he loved the most would be the one to put an end to his life. His beloved little brother, the God of the Seas, had ran him through with his trident and left him to die. It burned him inside out. The weight of his rage, grief, betrayal and sorrow felt like it was going to boil him inside out.

In a lowly house, the cries of an infant ring in the early morning.

* * *

It takes him a while to regain his bearings.

It was almost humiliating how difficult it is to gain control over his body. In his past life, he had no problems with learning how to move. Now, in his new feeble pathetically human body, even rolling over was nigh impossible.

Humans were weak. Cadmus concluded as he watched a woman wave something in his face. Blue eyes followed the cloth bundle in her hand, tuning out her cooing.

After a while in his new body, Cadmus noted that the human was now his new mother. He eyed her critically. The human couldn’t really compare to his previous mother – truly, Rhea was above all these humans in every way. Had Rhea been his new mother, she would’ve realized that her son wasn’t just a simple infant, but a reincarnated god.

The God of Conquest.

(The _former_ God of Conquest)

The fact left a bitter taste on his tongue, making him cry out. The cloth bundle fell from the woman’s hand as he continued to wail. He felt her hands (warm, gentle, soft) carefully cradle his tiny form and pressed his lips to her chest.

It was humiliating to have to suckle at the breast of a human for nutrients, but if he wanted to regain his strength and return to his former glory, he had to survive past infanthood.

Swallowing down his pride, he drank.

* * *

“I had them cornered!” He screams at his father. Both his new parents shake their head in fond exasperation. His mother ushers him inside with a hand on his shoulder, careful not to press against his bruises.

He had his wounds looked after by his mother while his father scolded him, the burn of humiliation and anger weighing heavily in his gut.

To have lost to mere human children made him glad that his brothers weren’t around to see his lost. _They_ would have never let it go. It didn’t matter that he himself was also a human child, or that the boys had outnumbered him. Those human children were younger than him by eons, regardless of how old his current body was – he should have won.

He could’ve won – if only the damned man hadn’t spotted him and dragged him out of the fight.

Angry, he glared at his new father through watery eyes. Another humiliating human trait – his eyes water one too many times. He couldn’t remember the last time he ever had tears in his eyes during his time as a god. To be brought to tears merely because he couldn’t control his emotions was frustrating. It made him so, so… angry? No, it wasn’t anger. It was close to it. It burned inside him, like the fire that burned fields and fields of crops.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a hand ruffling his hair. The thoughts of the not-rage were put aside as the man squatted in front of him. The blue eyes that reminded him of someone in his past life held his stare. “Are you sure you had it under control, Cadmus?”

The former god hesitated.

It felt like a trick question. It _had_ to be a trick question. Memories of being tricked by Kronos into fighting him without any help, or the time Zeus had tricked him and sealed him in a pithos or the time Poseidon had tricked him into sinking deep underwater to the point his lungs burned and his eyes stung to look for something that wasn’t ever even there.

(He could handle the mockery, the humiliation, back then. Because it was funny, because it was his family that pulled that sort of shit on him. Had it been anyone else he would’ve beaten their ass the moment he realized he was being played the fool.

The ache in his chest was simply because the weight of godhood wasn’t something humans shouldn’t feel.)

He eyed the man in front of him hesitantly – what could be the catch? What was the man’s angle? Was he planning on throwing him into another fight if he said he could hold his own against others? Was he going to fight him? Cadmus was fairly confident in his ability to hold his own against another person, but his chances looked slim if he had to fight a grown adult in his tiny body.

(If the man was anything like his previous father, Cadmus would be dead the moment the man decided to fight him. He would suffer first, with broken bones and torn muscles, a public spectacle, to remind everyone not to try to rebel against him.)

He gritted his teeth. No, for now he had to play it safe. He had to play by the humans’ rules.

Cadmus broke eye contact by lowering his head. “… No, sir.” He cursed inwardly for slipping into his old habits. He grinded his teeth together as he forced his voice to come out firmer. “No.”

He heard the man hum thoughtfully. Cadmus closed his eyes, waiting for his punishment. If the man wanted to teach him a lesson, he wasn’t going to take it lying down. No, he would fight back. He refused to be weak-

“Do you want to learn how to fight?”

At his words, both Cadmus and his human mother snapped their head up to the man. Cadmus gapped at the man as his new mother scolded the older man, telling him not to encourage his wild behavior.

The man laughed at his wife’s words. “Please, Lyra, I’m sure our boy’s gonna be in a lot of fights. Look at him! Our little fighter.” He ruffled Cadmus’ hair, unheeding or unaware of the flinch from the boy. “Might as well teach him how to win these fights.”

The woman hesitated. “Still,” She looked between the two of them, conflict clear on her face. She let out a sigh at the looks on both their faces, kneeling down in front of him, her hands cupping his face gently. “Cadmus, do _you_ want to learn how to fight?”

Once again, he was taken aback. No one had ever actually _asked_ if he wanted learn how to fight. He simply learnt on his own and when he began winning, people no longer thought he needed help.

It was odd.

It made his chest burn with something.

He swallowed thickly before nodding. “I’d like to.”

* * *

When he was seven, his new mother had given birth to a child.

His new family had celebrated at the birth of the second child, buying food and alcohol to commemorate the day. When the adults had finished their celebration and went to bed, Cadmus took the time to sneak a look at the infant.

A boy, he realized. It was a boy.

He had a brother.

He had a younger brother.

He was an older brother _once again_.

(Cold, apathic eyes that never once look at him. The indifference towards his every attempt at connecting. The burnt bridges and broken promises.

The sharp sting of being pierced that left an ache so deep he could still feel it.)

His head spun as his memories and emotions warred inside him. The sight of the infant sickened him, the wrinkly face that was splotchy and red. His fingers twitched as the voices in his head whispered the many, many ways he could snuff the life out of the human.

It would be easy.

A pillow to the face, fingers around the throat, a push out of the bed, a rabid animal in the cot.

It would be all too easy to kill-

A coo brought him out of his murderous thoughts. Cadmus blinked. The infant had awoken during his thinking, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. The eye contact had him jolting in surprise, startling the baby.

(Why was he shocked? Surely, he had looked at his brothers in the eyes before, right?

Right?

_Then why can’t he remember it?_ )

The baby’s face wrinkled up as he let out a wail. Panicked, Cadmus looked around for his mother. Seeing that the woman wasn’t going to wake up any time soon, the former god panicked and lowered his hand down to the baby.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do or how to stop the crying, but he assumed that since humans thrived on touch, maybe the baby would stop crying if he touched it?

The moment his knuckles brushed against the infant’s cheeks, there was a stutter in the wailing. Growing more confident, Cadmus pressed his hands against the cheeks of the baby. Slowly, but surely, the crying tapered off into quiet sniffling.

Even when the child wasn’t crying anymore, Cadmus kept his hands cupping the cheeks of the baby. Watery blue eyes looked up at him, tears falling from the corners of his eyes with each hiccup. Unconsciously, he started shushing the baby. Using his thumbs to stroke the baby’s cheeks, he was almost mesmerized with how trusting the infant was with him. By all means, the human had no clue who he was, or whether he was safe in Cadmus’ grasp. Shouldn’t humans be more worried? More concerned for their own well-being? Cadmus could easily kill the little human.

(One look at the child in his hands, and all thoughts on killing the baby was thrown out of his mind.

Maybe he was a fool, maybe he hadn’t actually learnt his lesson the first time, maybe he really was a masochist – but if protecting, caring, _loving_ this little boy and eventually dying by his hands was what it meant to be an older brother, then Cadmus would gladly throw himself into the role of being a brother the second time.

Maybe this was his punishment.)

Cadmus didn’t leave the infant’s side the entire night. Come morning time, the parents would be greeted with the sight of their two children sleeping together, the older curled protectively over the younger brother.

* * *

He was twelve when he realized that the memories of his past life were fading.

The once crystal-clear memories had begun to blur. Cadmus struggled to remember the exact shade of the clothes that his older brother once wore, or how the youngest brother talked. The memories of his previous father and mother were nearly gone, leaving him nothing but wisps of smoke to catch.

(The brother he once adored – who was he? The brother had blond hair, shining gold like the rings on a rich man’s fat fingers, right? Or was it like the gold of the wheat fields near the end of summer? Were his eyes the shade of blue like the ocean on a calm day or was it as dark as the sky on a stormy night?

He was beloved by him, right?

Cadmus loved him, right?)

The realization had shaken him. It wasn’t possible, how could he forget his previous memories? His memories of being a god? Wasn’t that his end goal? To become a god once more and take revenge on the one who killed him?

(Who was his blue-eyed killer? And why did it hurt to remember?)

Shaken and scared, he begged for a day off from fishing with his father and hid under the covers.

( _Like a little coward you truly are_. A deep, baritone voice mocked him.

Who? Who was he? Who were these people in his memories? Did he know them? Or were they a figment of his imagination as a child?

What was real? What was fake?)

The whole day, he couldn’t even move with the weight of losing what little memories he had of his past godhood had him pinned down. He ignored his rumbling stomach and the way his body ached from staying so still for the whole day. Even when the sun went down, he didn’t even feel like moving or eating.

Was it even worth it anymore? He wasn’t even an adult and the memories of his past were already slipping out of his grasp.

He ignored the sound of the door opening and the candlelight slipping into his room. The warmth of someone snuggling up against his unmoving form reminded him that he had a mortal body. He shivered, suddenly all too aware of how cold he felt.

The silence between them wasn’t tense, nor did it have an underlying sense of urgency. He didn’t feel like he was pressured to talk, to fill the empty space with his words. He didn’t need to. He and his brother could simply… exist. Together.

(Why was he surprised? Didn’t he have these quiet moments in the past-

No.

No.

No, he wasn’t going to-

Clinging to the past like a limpet while turning a blind eye to what he had in his life right now was just stupid.

Maybe it _was_ time to let go of the past.)

Closing his eyes, he let himself press back against the warmth. He allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the quiet snoring of his little brother.

* * *

He was fifteen when he felt the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back.

He ignored it, at first. There were many people who came to the temple to worship the gods, they probably had their own reason for staring.

The feeling of being watched didn’t leave him for months. Cadmus pretended he couldn’t feel it as he coached his brother through the motions. Every time their father went out to sea, they would go to the temple of the god of the seas and pray for his safety and prosperity.

Every time he stepped into the temple, there was a tingling sensation that ran through his entire body that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. It felt familiar, like stepping into a friend’s house. As though he was walking into a place where he should know like the back of his hands.

It unsettled him greatly.

Still, he went through the motions, now with the new habit of ignoring the heavy, heavy weight of someone watching him.

* * *

All it took was one simple mistake.

His brother had slipped and dropped an orange. Cadmus scolded him as he went to pick it up. The words died on his tongue went he looked up and met the gaze of a god.

Bright blue eyes like the ocean in the morning, narrowed in annoyance pinned him to the ground. He felt like he was a rabbit caught in a trap. He felt like a child caught in a riptide.

He was drowning.

He was drowning, choking on the salty water as he fought to stay above water, struggling not to breathe in the water as his lungs stretched and ached in his chest. He was sinking deeper and deeper with no chance of escape, so far gone that no one could save him.

He felt like he knew the man.

_Hello brother._

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I have nothing to say for myself other than the fact that I am simping hard for this manga, okay? This manga has me simping. Poseidon is hot as hell, and I regret typing that. Adamas is just full of angst potential and his relationship with Poseidon just screams max brocon. Is it mutual? Who knows! All I know is that Poseidon looks like the kuudere/yandere type so that's wnat I'm pegging him as in this fic.  
> Look... just be glad that I'm not writing about Adam okay? He's daddy, and I'm conflicted.


End file.
